Luc's Dream
by Laharl The Overlord
Summary: Luc's experiences in the Eternity tournaments, his life, and up to now where he stays in the nexus of Infinity, where he is fighting off Wesker's influence and still the remaining conflict within himself about destiny. Will he choose destruction or life?


Disclaimer: I do not own Suikoden, Resident Evil, or the other game console represented in this piece of fan fiction. Although I would very much like to.

A/N: You probably will not understand this, and if you do not then that is fine. As long as you are able to enjoy it. If you are further still curious and would to understand a little bit then type in the search engine "Eternity Tournament" or "Random Insanity". Look for Spellbound and you will then understand a little or not.

Warnings: Incomprehensible shall become frequent throughout this.

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"Please tell me…is fate unchangeable?"

Those words were repeated through the brunette's head like some kind of unspoken mantra - it was almost as if he was trying to change the answer he didn't like to something that was more fitting, whenever he thought about it. But as always, life doesn't do what you want it to do. Rather, it follows its own path and you're dragged down along with it; but Luc was determined to make this not happen. But even he was unable to escape fate in the end, unable to throw it off of its course that it would make for his own world eventually. He eventually acknowledged that he failed, failed in his endeavor to make sure that there was a future; at this he lamented often, until he stopped.

When he stopped, there was nothing left.

Luc felt empty, like a void, whenever he looked outside of his windows of Infinity - he felt a sense of loss, helplessness, and that he was very much falling apart. He knew he was losing it; the visions still haunted him and tortured him endlessly, as in mockery; he wasn't even allowed to be alongside Sarah, who had also perished in those ruins. It made him hurt in his chest, adding to the regular onslaughts of chest pain he received from his True Rune he was not supposed to still have. It was a miracle it had somehow followed him this far and now it seemed content to leech off of his existence, entwined with his soul.

He was damned.

The True Rune bearer could always manage to stir the few people he's met into some kind of positive emotional breakthrough, even if it was the wrong person. However, it didn't last long for himself to feel an actual breakthrough in his mental cloud of gathering insanity - especially when he strives not to talk to anyone else here. So, it was only bound to get worse when the next person he met was a man bent on world domination - after a fight with him, Luc began to feel like it had been a waste of time to even try to bond with someone in Infinity. But he ended up in some sort of twisted alliance with him; he expected the man would try to kill him, not try to help him - but he found, disturbingly, he didn't disagree with what the man had said.

In his mind, the small voice of protest that _this man will sacrifice anything_ died. Why? Because Luc would too, to get what he wanted.

And he realized he was no different; it just had been the different circumstances.

But still, Luc still had a small part of him that understood the concept of justice enough for him to want to bring down the evil man in front of his green eyes. So, he would allow himself to be used. And this is how he felt it was like:

The golden chair was fastened with many precious gems, jewels, as well as excellent, expert embroidery with many layers of red and bronze fine silks, silver, and even more gold that shone as bright as the light on the grass' morning dew. Within the chair sat a brown-haired man, who wore a golden crown that symbolized his sovereignty; it was small, but had a priceless diamond upon the middle of it for all to see that entranced everyone that looked into it. His arms hung off the armrests as his head was tilted perpetually to the right side; his normal clothing was donned, but also a red, brilliant cape that captured the eyes of those who saw it, able to see the perfection in the simple long stretch of fabric. The man looked much younger than he appeared to be, his eyes holding a wisdom beyond his years, but also an emptiness deeper than the void itself and ten times duller than the jasmine-colored ring on his right, dark-gloved right hand.

"Your Majesty, it is time."

A voice cooed behind him, in that velvety, devilish tone that belonged to a sinister man in black, whose hands influenced the way Luc walked, the way he talked, and the way acted.

But either way, Luc could not help himself; he needed the man's help for when he tripped over his feet, stumbling into a servant or two, which caused everyone to stare. But as he was held within the black-clothed man's arms, the man assured everyone:

"He will be fine. After all, he's just a little sick."

Then, Luc's eyes barely twinkled alive with _something_ as his hands slowly, shaking encased their fingers around the strong man's neck.

"Die for me."

Luc had felt much like that, for he could not voice it in any more words than this. Especially with him slowly losing any little sanity he had managed to collect in the time he's spent in Infinity. He is filled with a deep sadness; because he's sure by this time everyone has forgotten him at where he's called his home.

It just happened to be that he was heading off to bed when he walked into the bathroom, going to wash his hands after another silent dinner; as he did, he looked intensely at his reflection. He mused that if it had been ten years ago, he would have been parading in front of a mirror at how he looked, or strutting around arrogantly, proud of himself. However, now he could only look at slight distaste - even if his hairstyle had changed - at how similar he looked to his brother.

The green-eyed man sighed, the darkness deepening in them further when he looked down at his hands, before he looked at the mirror again as he turned off the faucet. There, staring at him was his younger self, instead of his older self.

"What's wrong, Luc? Why do you look so surprised?"

The brown-haired rune mage just blinked twice, his eyes not widening but his silence more than enough of an indicator of how surprised at this he was. Before realization set in: he was straight out hallucinating.

"You're so pathetic, wallowing in your own self-pity. It's disgusting, to know that I am you."

The crack of glass shattered the fake's words, his presence too - this was symbolized by Luc's fist meeting the material in front of him, breathing heavily as his eyebrows became knotted together and a deep frown came across his lips. Yet, when he pulled back, he could only stare at the dripping blood from his knuckle and sigh.

A healing spell and a replacement of glass later, the brunette had already dressed in a shirt and shorts for bed, placing his normally worn clothes into the hamper.

He sunk into the bed, and fell asleep.

Luc didn't even realize he was gritting his teeth in his sleep.

_Sarah…_

He didn't deserve her. Not at all; he felt angry at himself sometimes when he kept reflecting on when he she had decided to come along with him - but it was her choice. At times, it also reminded him of the fact that he had also - when many worlds and a universe away - extended the choice to someone else.

_Noel…_

They were probably both left alone - wherever they may be, dead or alive.

He dreamt first of daisy-coated fields, with the bright sun shining down on him, Sarah, Noel, and Ariel. But somewhere along the way, he was pushed away, far, far away - even from a man who he had come to know by the name of Tir. Nanami, and her brother, Riou.

Even Leknaat couldn't reach him.

"On your knees, puppet!"

The man in front of him, his brother shouted, sneering down at him, as he was forced to his knees by the Harmonian soldiers, who restrained him easily. If everything worked well in dreams, he could very well ruin this moment of inner disgrace; however, at every struggle, it felt like a boulder was pushed onto his back and it nearly broke him when he renewed said struggles. But he was pushed all the way to the ground, so to look like he was groveling in front of the bishop; not liking that, the brunette tried to sit up, only to have his brother slam his foot down onto the top of his head. He laughed as Luc gasped in pain as the soldiers held his arms behind his back.

Then, the scenario changed.

Standing from across him in the barren wasteland was Albert Wesker, with that insufferable smile on his lips; that smile for some reason was irritating Luc to no end. He took a step forward, finally a wind spell easily being summoned on the tip of his tongue, but the conceited man spoke these words that halted his next action,

"You do know that it won't work on me."

And by the end of that sentence, he was behind the brunette - who turned around quickly, but not quickly enough. Luc vaguely wonders how fast his right arm is grabbed and forced behind his back, as well as forcing him to turn so he wasn't facing the other man - as if he had been too slow to actually been able to turn around and face him at least. He was able to hold Luc in place, whilst his other hand slowly made its way up his chest to his neck, his strong fingers closing around his air path.

"I admit, I did call you a fool once too many times before for inane reasons, but this is where I can truly say you are."

Wesker just laughed, placing as much pressure as he could without snapping Luc's neck, but effectively closing his airways and beginning to really choke him. His wind magic, as he tried to use it, was failing to work again.

"You're just like me, Luc. You sacrifice everything to get to your goals. You even allow children to be slaughtered-"

The brunette calmly interrupted as he could,

"… It is … why … I know how you are…"

Then the man lets go of his arm but has a firm grip on his neck, as he hisses into his ear,

"What makes you think you're better than I am? Why do you think you have something that I don't?"

Luc's eyes start to cloud over as he desperately needs to breathe, but he cannot; so he answers only with one word that tells everything.

"…Nothing."

Then Albert realizes his hold has become not enough, and he squeezes tighter and tighter and then tighter - Luc gasps - and even tighter still. Enough to make the brunette see spots - and maybe he starts imagining the grip becoming tighter, but this is a dream and such things are confusing.

"_**Do it**._"

Luc's eyes shut teeth as he grits his teeth, and there's a bead of sweat as he feels himself nearly slipping into unconsciousness - and maybe his wind spells are working after all, because he should be unconscious by now.

"N-"

"Show me, what you have really become!"

The cruel man turns Luc to face him when he lets go of his neck and the brunette steps back - but he already has him within his grasp, too close, and he plunges his hand deep into the True Rune bearer's chest, causing an unnatural scream to erupt from his lips. But he doesn't stop, his hand searching, searching, going deeper still, until his fingers grab a hold of something and pull.

Luc screams and screams and _screams_.

There's tears leaking out of his eyelids, he is screaming, his chest is filled with searing pain, there are feathers dropping to the floor as blood spurts out from the wound - Albert stumbles back, surprised. Quickly, the brunette's hand flies to his own chest, to cover the gaping hole in it as he sends the man a glare that is filled with the power of two entities instead of just one. With every strength within himself, he wills the second one not to come out…because…because…

As everything is spiraling out of control, Lucy is desperately telling him to wake up.

The sun's beams that litter the room are the last thing that is brought to the brunette's mind as he tumbled to the floor in a undignified heap of blankets and limbs. In a daze, he slowly lifts himself up into a sitting position.

He doesn't want to sleep again.

But there's pain in his chest, and this time it doesn't go away as it is totally determined to eclipse his heart; he wonders if he'll allow it to do so. But maybe, it will fill the void in his heart.

He rises to his feet, and brings himself, stumbling a little towards the window. As he opens it, he frees the stagnant air in the room and himself allowing the sun to truly shine, himself to truly breathe. He is free-

"Free from fate."

Luc whispers unto himself as realization takes a hold of him.

He is standing a few feet close to the man called Albert Wesker, but it feels as if he is standing a mile away from him and his green eyes glance up to those eyes shielding his by form of sunglasses. There is that smile on his face, but it fades as Luc says,

"Your new world order, is nothing but a dream. Nothing more, nothing less."

The still air swerves suddenly, Albert goes forward - the sound of crashes of, what?

"Then what about you? Why do you choose to stand before me as one?"

Luc simply smiles as he swiftly dodges a few lightning kicks, utilizing the air around him to block and maneuver around Albert's attacks.

"Why not? You're going to ruin the peace, aren't you? I don't have a burning sense of justice, but I won't tolerate zombies walking around in Infinity. Because even if Chris is gone, everybody has lost their sanity, or simply don't want to do anything about anyone dying here, and I have nobody to stand beside, I think it is less confusing that way."

Albert scowled, before successfully getting a quick lightning punches right into Luc's face along with his stomach, sending him across the black pavement, and said,

"I'll show you your mistake, Luc. I'll show you why you made the wrong decision. Your destiny is-"

The wind all around them turned as sharp as blades as Luc shouted, standing,

"Shut up! My _fate_ is in my hands. I'll decide what happens next, not you."

He could still hear Wesker's voice that was able to turn his despairs and doubts louder in his eyes, and see that smile on his lips.

"We're not all that different."

And then, his next words whispered in his ear,

"We're exactly the same."

The brunette did not abruptly stir, as the two stood very close together and it was close enough for Albert to touch this specimen but he was pretty sure he would be dealt a heavy blow. Luc's green irises gazed up into Albert's strange eyes, with a strange shining daring him-daring him to _what? Albert questioned, until he saw and heard the lips and words that spilled from them._

"_Then bring it. Bring the fate."_


End file.
